


They're All Long Gone (It's Only You and Me)

by JennaFlare



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Future Fic, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-31
Updated: 2016-12-31
Packaged: 2018-09-13 14:33:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,999
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9127897
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JennaFlare/pseuds/JennaFlare
Summary: Five years after the show, Otabek visits Yuri in Russia and dredges up what Yuri thought was long-dead history.





	

                Yuri realized how much he missed Otabek when they spotted each other in the airport. Yuri was by the doors out of the glass hallway, and when Otabek rounded the corner, he couldn’t help the easy grin that stretched his mouth. Otabek’s returning smile was like sun after the clouds cleared. Otabek’s pace increased the closer he got to the doors, but it didn’t get past a fast, excited walk. Still, Yuri’s pleased smile grew until his cheeks hurt.

                As soon as he was past the doors, Otabek’s luggage was on the floor and his arms were tight around Yuri’s waist. Yuri responded immediately, throwing his arms around Otabek’s shoulders. They stayed like that for a while and simply breathed each other in. Eventually, Yuri pulled back, hands still on Otabek’s shoulders as Yuri grinned at him.

                “It’s so good to see you,” he breathed.

                Otabek gave him a small smile. “You too.”

                After collecting Otabek’s luggage and loading it into the car, the pair soon found themselves in the traffic around the busy airport. Yuri groaned, pressing his palms into the steering wheel.

                “I was hoping it wouldn’t be _this_ bad.” He huffed out an annoyed breath and handed his phone to Otabek. “Play something,” he said with a gesture to the auxiliary cable. Otabek smiled.

                “It gives us some time to talk,” he reasoned, plugging in the phone and scrolling through the available music. “You didn’t bring, uh – sorry, what was his name again?”

                “Oh, you mean Dickface?” Yuri asked. “I dumped him a few weeks ago.”

                Otabek’s eyebrows lifted. “What did he do?”

                “He tried to pawn one of my medals.”

                “What the _fuck_?” Otabek ground out. “He didn’t go through with it, though?”

                “I caught him trying to sneak out with it. He was acting fucking suspicious and I –“ Yuri grimaced, as if embarrassed about what he was about to say. “I tackled him to the ground when he wouldn’t turn out his pockets. He had it up his sleeve, and it fell out in the struggle.”

                Otabek was silent for a long while. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

                Yuri shrugged. “I’m telling you now.”

                “But this was important, and you didn’t even mention it.”

                “Important?” Yuri scoffed. “You don’t even remember his name. He was – _is_ a flea. I’m not going to waste my time thinking about him. But what about you? Any better luck in the love department?” Otabek just shook his head in response. Yuri laughed. “Look at the two of us. Handsome young skaters who can’t keep a man.”

                It took them nearly an hour, but they finally made it to Yuri’s apartment. He had been living on his own since he turned eighteen, and he loved it. He could have people over whenever he wanted, which also meant he had the freedom to be alone. Yuri loved the people he was close to intensely and loved having them around, but he liked being able to be completely alone when he needed it.

                The apartment was small and modestly furnished with mostly IKEA furniture. Yuri didn’t really like IKEA, but it was just so damned convenient. He had friends that bitched about the instructions, but Yuri didn’t find them that complicated. He helped Otabek place his luggage by the couch and then said,

                “Well, I could do with a beer. Want one?” Otabek nodded, and Yuri fetched two from the fridge. They were a dark, rich stout; Otabek’s favorite. He didn’t say anything, but Yuri caught the fleeting pleased smile that flitted over Otabek’s lips.

                “You have a nice apartment,” Otabek said.

                Yuri snorted. “You’ve been here before.”

                Otabek shrugged and took another sip from his beer. “I suppose it’s nicer without any of your boyfriends in it.” Yuri froze, the beer bottle stalled on its way to his lips, and squinted at Otabek.

                “What’s _that_ supposed to mean?” Again, Otabek shrugged. “That’s not an answer.”

                “Forget I said anything.”

                Yuri’s laugh was harsh and incredulous. “Fuck _that_. What did you mean?” Yuri fixed Otabek with a glare and opened his mouth, but Otabek heaved a relenting sigh and said,

                “Most of your boyfriends were… not exactly kind to me.”

                Yuri furrowed his brow. “You never told me that.”

                “I’m told I can be fairly intimidating,” Otabek said. “I figure their behavior had something to do with that.”

                “That’s not an excuse! Just because you’re way cooler than any of them ever could be doesn’t give them the right to be an overcompensating douchebag,” Yuri snapped, offended on Otabek’s behalf. He was especially pissed that he didn’t remember who he’d been dating the times he and Otabek saw each other so he could tell them off. All he remembered about Otabek’s visits were the things they had done together, not what guy he’d been seeing that year.

                Otabek smiled, and it was a wonder how often Otabek had smiled today. “Well, they’re all long gone,” he said, and his eyes held the spark of something Yuri didn’t want to try and name. He didn’t dare get his hopes up when it came to Otabek. Yuri had been down that road before.

                Regardless, Yuri was _completely_ over him. Otabek was his best friend, and Yuri was satisfied with that. Otabek was among his biggest supporters. They just would never be together. Yuri had come to terms with that. He really had. It had been five years, after all. He had moved on.

                Yuri cleared his throat. “Yeah. Maybe someday I’ll find someone that sticks around for more than the money they seem to think I have.”

                Yuri shouldn’t have been surprised when Otabek smiled yet again, but the appearance of his brilliant white teeth threw him. “I’m sure you will,” Otabek said before he hid his grin with a swig of beer.

                They spent the early afternoon catching up on each other’s lives, covering everything they had missed in their near-constant texting. There was, surprisingly, a lot to talk about. Otabek’s coach was recently remarried, Yuuri and Victor’s new dog liked to chew on Yuri’s shoes, and Otabek had just been to a fascinating art exhibit. They cracked open new bottles of beer throughout until there was a rather impressive collection in the recycling bin. They talked about new music they had discovered, the cat cafés Yuri visited on his last visit to Japan, and Mila and Sara’s new engagement. There was so much for them to talk about that they became engrossed in the conversation and lost track of time, entirely missing their dinner reservation.

                “That’s okay,” Otabek said. “I can make something.

                Yuri smacked Otabek’s shoulder as he moved to stand up.

                “No, you won’t! You’ve been traveling all day _and_ you’re my guest. I’ll make piroshki.”

                Otabek just about snorted. “Is that all you know how to make?”

                “Shut the fuck up,” Yuri said, standing up and kicking Otabek’s leg. Yuri sauntered on slightly unsteady legs to the kitchen. He wasn’t _drunk_ (he wasn’t a lightweight, thank you very much), but four beers on an empty stomach didn’t exactly leave him _sober_ , either.

                Otabek was behind him suddenly, a steadying hand on the small of Yuri’s back. “Careful,” Otabek said, that strange spark back in his eyes. Yuri hadn’t felt like he was going to stumble until that hand touched him and shot electricity through his skin. He tripped on his own feet, and Otabek’s arm was around Yuri’s waist, keeping him from falling. He righted Yuri, and they stood now with only a sliver of space between them. Otabek didn’t move his arm.

                “Can I kiss you?” he asked, as if he were asking the time. As if he hadn’t rejected Yuri five years ago.

                And just like that, Yuri was fifteen again, taking Otabek’s hands in his and laying bare his feelings, only to watch a cold film settle over Otabek’s countenance. He had been kind, but his gentleness was salt in the wound. It had taken him so, _so_ long to move on. And he _had_ moved on.

                “What happened to ‘I don’t see you that way?’” Yuri managed. There was a twitch of Otabek’s lips.

                “You grew up.”

                Yuri scoffed and turned his face away. He couldn’t stand that look in Otabek’s eyes.

                “It’s been five years. People do that.” He paused to swallow before looking back at Otabek. He was still so damned _close_. “I moved on,” he said, as flippantly as he could manage with his teenage crush’s arm around him.

                Otabek gave the barest of nods and dropped his arm from Yuri’s waist. Yuri swayed backwards slightly, catching himself on the kitchen counter as he tried to calm his racing heart.

                “I know,” Otabek said. “You’re very active on Instagram.”

                Yuri nodded, because at first most of those pictures had been posted because he knew Otabek would see them. He had been furious for _months_ after it happened, and it took him a while to be able to talk to Otabek even after he had calmed down. He was embarrassed, but Otabek had given him a hug like nothing had happened. They would still be friends. For nearly three years he had pined for his best friend, but he had moved past it. At least, he thought he had. Leave it to Otabek to show up and prove him wrong.

                Otabek smiled again, but this one was not like all the others Yuri had seen that day. The others had left Yuri grinning in return. This smile, though, was a terrible thing to behold. It held no joy, just resigned disappointment. “It’s okay. I sort of figured I missed my chance.”

                “Stop making me feel bad,” Yuri snapped, even though it wasn’t what he really wanted to say. “ _You_ turned _me_ down, remember?”

                Otabek’s brow furrowed. “I know. But you were _fifteen_.”

                Yuri scoffed. “It’s not like the age difference just went away. I mean, if your only reasoning was that I was jailbait, why didn’t you just tell me that _then_?” Otabek squared his shoulders. Something about the comment hit a nerve, and his voice was ice when spoke.

                “I wasn’t interested in you then. Would _you_ be interested in a fifteen year old?”

                Yuri’s lips thinned into a line. “That’s not the point.”

                “It’s the _only_ point,” Otabek argued.

                “And what, now that I’m all grown up you feel okay admitting you think I’m hot?”

                “Fucking _hell_ , Yuri. You’ve matured in more ways than that and, and—“ Otabek broke off, face red. Yuri swallowed; he’d never seen Otabek this upset. Otabek squeezed his eyes shut and shuffled backwards slightly. He worked his jaw and huffed a breath through his nose. He opened his eyes, and when he spoke again, he was quiet and calm. “All you had to say was ‘no.’”

                Yuri’s heart thumped in his chest and the world seemed to slow around him. He hadn’t meant to drive Otabek away. He just… he wanted Otabek to feel some of what he had felt over the last five years. Which was petty and stupid and _of course_ it resulted in Otabek giving up and walking away. But this wasn’t at all what he wanted.

                “Beka, wait,” he said, catching Otabek’s wrist. Otabek stopped and turned back to Yuri.

                “You haven’t called me that in a while,” he said.

                Yuri ignored the comment. “Kiss me,” he said. Otabek blinked at him.

                “But you—“

                “I swear to God, if you don’t kiss me right fucking n—“

                Otabek didn’t let him finish.

                The kiss was a soft, small thing, little more than a press of Otabek’s lips against Yuri’s. It was a quick, there and then gone pressure, and yet it somehow still left Yuri breathless. He was determined to be cool, even with Otabek’s face still so close to his own. Their breaths mingled as Yuri said,

                “I’ve been kissed more passionately by my grandpa.”

                Otabek recognized the statement for the challenge it was, and he rose admirably to the occasion.


End file.
